Chain
by Penelope Jadewing
Summary: Sequel to Meteor Shower. Leo reflects on how his new Chain, Draco, is so different from the Elliot Nightray he once knew so well. Left behind in the place of a strong, borderline-arrogant noble scion lies crippled a broken soul, lost and alone, void of the individuality that he had sacrificed himself to preserve. Or so he thinks. No pairing.


**A/N: This is a story that follows my oneshot, Meteor Shower. Um, this is the most I've ever written in Leo's POV, and most definitely more Post-Elliot's Death Leo than I've ever even tried. I'm not sure how well I'm getting him, so I'd love some feedback on that.**

**In this story, I kinda hoped to focus on how Elliot, now a Chain, has changed against his will. From Leo's perspective. This first chapter is kinda short, but I didn't really have more to write. After this, there will be a follow-up coincide story called Contractor, from Elliot's POV on how Leo has changed. Any suggestions for how I should do that are welcome. I love hearing from my readers, and it motivates me to write.**

**Also, after I write Contractor, I hope to write a longer fic about how all the other main characters come to find that Elliot isn't dead, and has returned. Which will be fun. Again, I'd love suggestions; I'd love to hear your ideas.**

**As always, no pairings here. Just friends closer than brothers.**

**So, anyway, reviews are always appreciated. :) Elliot's giving dragonback rides! X3**

**~Penelope**

* * *

Statice.

A simple wiry blossom fringed along the tops with brilliant blue. Signifying steadfastness. Something that never changes.

Elliot had written it for his mother, before she lost her mind on account of the murder of her three elder sons. But he had dedicated it to Leo instead, as a sort of an oath, a promise of their friendship. All that sappy stuff.

"Elliot?"

Last night, Leo had awoken to the sound of sobbing from his servant's room. But when he knocked, the sound quieted, and had not continued after that.

He peered through the door when no one answered. Only then did he question the intelligence of that action; but if Elliot wasn't decent, then surely, he would have said something. And he had nothing to fear, it seemed, for across the room, the silver light from the windows silhouetted a single male figure.

He wore the tattered remains of the coat he had 'died' in, the hems ripped and torn almost beyond recognition. But Leo would always recognize that coat; why Elliot was wearing it again, he had no idea. The Nightray – or, the Chain, as Elliot now insisted he was – had his back to the door, and Leo could not see his face. He stepped through the door, and took a few steps into the room.

"Elliot, are you all right?"

The blond didn't answer. He just tilted back his head, letting out a slow breath, and clenched his fists at his side.

What was he doing?

Elliot opened his hands again, and lifted one in front of his face. Silhouetted though he was, Leo could see traces of his profile when he turned his head to look at that hand, and he wore a melancholy expression. His ears were pointed again, Leo realized.

But for the past few days, he'd only transformed into his Chain form at night! Surely, he wasn't going through that torturous process now, in the middle of the morning?

Elliot sighed, and stared long and hard at his gloved hand – the same blood-stained gloves he'd been wearing that night at Isla Yura's. Then suddenly, the fabric on the fingers tore and, through the light, Leo watched talons sprout from Elliot's fingers. Long, curved, deadly talons that could tear flesh at too forceful a touch with hardly any effort at all. He'd seen it when an unfortunate Pandora agent had gotten too close to Elliot during his transformation.

But he didn't transform any further. And he seemed satisfied with the appearance of his claws, because he then lowered his hand to his side again. The talons remained, but he had gone still once more. He hung his head.

Leo wanted to ask, but he felt as if he were disturbing his master's… er, servant's concentration.

It was so odd. He found it too easy to slip back into his servant persona now that Elliot was living under the same roof. He constantly had to remind himself that it was nothing like it had been.

A low growl emanated from the other side of the room, making Leo look up to see black tendrils swirling about Elliot's shoulders. That wasn't Elliot's 'I'm irritated' growl; it was a dragonesque growl, low and rumbling and inhuman.

The blackness thickened and morphed and grew until it completely shadowed Elliot from view. Once it had quadrupled in size, only then did it start to recede, thinning back like fog until it was gone as quick as it had come. Only it left in its wake massive purple-black wings that had torn slits right through Elliot's coat, and long curved black horns atop his blond head. When he finally turned, and the wings moved back from obstructing Leo's view of him, he saw Elliot raise his hand again, up to his mouth.

His fangs glimmered in the silver light as he breathed into his palm. Even from where he was, Leo could see the air warp from the heat, and Elliot's white glove begin to smoke.

"What am I, Leo?" he asked quietly after a long silence. His voice was low and wounded and bitter, so very different from the arrogant pride that had once outshone an entire school campus.

Leo barely hesitated, and only after the words left his mouth, wished he did. "You are my friend and ally, Elliot Nightray."

Wrong.

The tightening of Elliot's brow and clenching of his fists were enough to tell him that. A fiery cobalt gaze shifted to him through narrowed eyes. "And then what are you? My loyal servant?"

He didn't have to ask. Leo knew all too well the answer to that question.

"Look at me," the Chain continued, lifting his hands again to stare at them. "Look… Look at this!" Ebony wings spread like curtains of shadow, blocking out the light, his talons flashed and fangs bared, eyes glowed amaranth. A forked tongue flitted through a slit between the razor teeth, like a serpent's, and the room was suddenly ten degrees colder.

Elliot seethed. "Do I _look _like Elliot Nightray to you!?"

Leo stared at him for a long moment, waiting for him to calm himself, as he knew he would. Slowly, the wings folded again, tucking against Elliot's back, and the horned head hung, chin to chest. Never had he seen the young heir look so defeated.

And no wonder.

He was right.

The very thing that he would have rather died than let happen… happened. He had been willing to reject Humpty Dumpty in order to remain himself, Elliot Nightray. But the Abyss had caught him anyway, and against his will, he was turned into someone – something else entirely.

This was Draco. Not Elliot Nightray.

And it pained Leo to even consider that there was a difference.

So, he took a breath, and stared at Draco. He had sunk down to sit cross-legged on the floor, wings sagging against the hardwood, talons tracing up and down his bare right forearm, where the sleeve had been torn off in the Abyss. He seemed deep in thought, yet blank and solemn.

What was Draco? Leo pondered this as he took in the image of the Chain before him.

Lost.

Alone.

A broken toy, stitched back together but never to be in quite the same shape as he once was. A mere shadow of his former self.

A hollow shell, unsure of how to fill itself.

Leo sighed. Well, this wasn't going to be easy.

Draco's wings were trembling. So, Leo pretended not to notice the real reason why, and instead, took a step back toward the open door. "How about a flight?"

Those long, elven ears twitched, and the head tilted up a bit. The wings lifted off the floor. "Eh?"

"Well, you're a dragon, aren't you? Dragons with wings need to fly, not stay cooped up in a building all day."

Amaranth eyes faded slowly back to blue, and Elliot blinked owlishly. "…Eh?"

Leo snorted. "Get up, you idiot."

With a flat glare, he did as he was told, and stood to his feet, and then followed Leo through the master's chambers and to the door that would take them out into the halls of Pandora once more. But before they reached it, Leo paused, and then on a second thought, went over to his wardrobe and opened the doors to rifle behind the hung coats.

"What are you doing?" came Elliot's question from behind him.

"What does it look like I'm doing? Composing?" Leo's fingers finally latched around the cold, hard surface he sought, and he pulled the item out.

An ebony scabbard, a thin, elegant rapier. He heard Elliot choke on his breath before he even turned around.

Leo approached his friend and held the rapier out to him hilt first. "Here – I believe this belongs to you."

Glen screamed at him, but Leo managed to ignore him. So what if it was the Nightray Key? It was Elliot's sword.

He raised his eyebrows when Elliot backed away from it after a moment of staring at it in awe. The blond shook his head, eyes once again flickering pink. "I can't take that."

"But it's yours."

"It's Elliot's!" he blurted, fury sparking once more.

Leo didn't even flinch, but instead rolled his eyes. Then he simply tossed the scabbard to him, knowing what would happen. "You stupid knucklehead."

Elliot caught it with ease, and froze once he realized his fingers were clenched about his beloved weapon. Leo strode to the door then, and opened it to exit. He heard Elliot take a deep breath, and let it out slow.

When Elliot finally followed, the rapier hung at his waist.


End file.
